


Once Again

by borkery



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blind Frisk (Undertale), Chara (Undertale) Has Their Own Body, Chara (Undertale) Is Alive, Everyone Is Alive, Frisk (Undertale) Has Amnesia, Nonbinary Chara & Frisk (Undertale), Nonbinary Chara (Undertale), Nonbinary Frisk (Undertale), Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Frisk (Undertale), Selectively Mute Frisk (Undertale), Slow Burn Chara/Frisk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27922957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borkery/pseuds/borkery
Summary: One day, you climbed a mountain, jumped into a hole, and woke up in the land of monsters. You don't remember why you did it.
Relationships: Chara & Frisk (Undertale), Chara/Frisk (Undertale)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	Once Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea for this fanfic has been brewing in my mind for a while. I finally got around to start writing it. This story takes place in an AU where both Chara and Frisk are alive and fall into the Underground around the same time. There is going to be Chara/Frisk, as well, so if that's not your cup of tea then please don't read!

**Day 1, 201X**

Your head hurts. Bad.

Your skull is pounding and your entire body feels beaten and bruised. Your thoughts are all jumbled up, too, you’re not exactly sure why or what or where or who or how at the moment. What you _do_ know, however, is that you’re not where you’re supposed to be. The wind whistles throughout the room, billowing high above your head. It’s thick with the scent of earth and dust—nothing like the crisp, mountain air that filled your mouth with the taste of ozone. This isn’t the mountain. You can’t feel the sunlight here.

It seems like you have fallen a long... _long_ way.

You shift on the oddly plush ground. Attempting to sit up only causes your head to throb in protest and you lurch forward with a groan. You reach up to touch your forehead, just beneath the area where it feels the worst. You shy away when you feel wetness. Instead, you decide to glide your fingers through the, what you now realize are, flowers beneath you. To your astonishment, you immediately recognize them. 

Indian strawberries—the same ones that grew on the outskirts of your village’s fields. From their crowns burst tiny, pearl-shaped petals. If they’re flowering it must still be spring, you realize with a twinge of relief. You rub one of the velvety petals between your fingers. It leaves a powdery substance on your hands, which you wipe off on your jeans.

You take in a deep breath and try to remember what color they are despite your throbbing headache. After a disorienting minute, you finally recall. They have yellow petals and red berries. Yellow like the chirruping birds...somewhere very, very far away above your head. Yellow like the sunlight...that you can’t even feel because you are most likely in a hole. Red like the blood...that is currently oozing out of your wounds, which means you’re probably going to die at the bottom of this hole. Red like the—

“Hello?” Your head snaps in the direction of the voice, which was a bad decision, because pain courses through your entire body and you end up toppling over. “What's wrong? Hey—!” There’s a shuffling of shoes as someone rushes to your side. You hear another voice, further away, but you can barely register it through the pain. A hand touches your shoulder, and you flinch. “Are you okay?” The person asks softly. You tilt your head up, hoping that, whoever this is, they’ll help you.

Instead, they gasp and jolt away.

The sudden movement lights off fireworks behind your eyes as the person scrambles away from you. Their breathing is panicked and hitched. A heartbeat later, you hear the frantic rustle of fabric and the slapping of shoes against stone as someone else comes close. 

“Chara, what’s wrong!?” A new voice asks worriedly.

“It’s a human!” Is the reply. Your mouth parts in confusion as the second person approaches you, calmly and curiously. The first voice gets more strained as they shout, “ _Asriel_ , don’t go near them!”

Something round and soft plunks against the ground, and _someone_ drops to his knees beside you. You stay very still, not wanting to spook him like you had the other. Something soft and paw-like touches you…? It ghosts over your cuts and bruises until it gets to your head, touching so softly that you can barely register it’s there. The one named Asriel sucks in a breath of air.

“They’re injured pretty badly,” he says to the one named Chara. Then, he turns back to you and says, more softly, “We’re going to help you, okay?” Your brows relax at the kindness in his voice. Then you hear the ripping of bandages and—

You clench your teeth and hiss as he starts wrapping the bandages around your head. Yet, the second the bandage is fully applied, the splitting pain suddenly vanishes. There’s only a dull ache left in your body. Your mouth parts in surprise at how _okay_ you suddenly felt. A relieved sigh catches your attention. The breath tickles the tip of your nose, and you catch the faintest whiff of... _pizza_? 

“Why did you heal them?!” Chara gasps.

“How can we take them home if they’re too injured to walk?” Asriel responds.

“We are _not_ taking them home.”

You’re surprised at how young they both sound. What are a couple of kids your age doing at the bottom of a cliff? You also wonder how they just somehow magically cured you, but decide not to let it bother you too much since you are still feeling woozy from the blood loss. Asriel turns back to you.

“I wasn’t able to fully restore your HP,” he says. The video game lingo is a bit odd to you, but you don’t think much of it. “Our mom will be able to help more. Can you walk?” You nod. He stands up and you slowly struggle to your feet as well. Suddenly, Chara growls at you.

“Don’t move an inch!” You don’t move. Asriel huffs.

“Chara, put the knife away, already!” _Knife?_ Sweat drips down your back. They have a _knife_?

“How do we know they won’t hurt us? This is a _human_ , Asriel!”

“You’re a human too, Chara. I don’t think they’d be able to hurt us while they’re injured like this.”

“They can if we _heal_ them,” Chara exclaims, obviously distressed. You want to tell them that you don’t want to hurt anyone but you’re still in too much pain to do anything. The other, Asriel, seems unfazed as he lifts your right arm over his shoulder. You’re once again taken aback by how his hands feel like paws. His furry shoulder radiates heat; there’s no way the fur is clothing, you realize. It’s a part of him.

The strange-but-kind furry boy begins to help you move forward. It’s an awkward shuffle. Your head may be feeling better, but the rest of your body most certainly does not. Chara seems to be hovering close, but they aren’t doing anything besides following. You hope they aren’t still pointing a knife at you, but you wouldn’t exactly know.

After a while of shuffling and Asriel carefully maneuvering you over stones and bumps, he sighs. “Chara, what are you doing?” He asks, who you presume is, his sibling.

“I’m keeping an eye on them.” 

“Can you keep an eye on them _and_ help?”

Chara reluctantly takes your other arm and places it over their shoulder. They flinch, as if your skin burns them. As you begin walking once more, they stay as far away from you while still managing physical contact—which is impressive in its own way. The sound of your stumbling feet fills the awkward silence.

In all honesty, you think you’re dreaming. You think you’re in a concussed stupor and you’re still at the bottom of that cliff, bleeding out onto the indian strawberries. You’re not sure what’s real anymore. So when you start blacking out and your legs fail to keep you upright, buckling beneath you, you think that it’s just your body at the bottom of Mt. Ebott finally favoring death over this silly fever dream. You slip into unconsciousness with the taste of iron stinging your mouth.

. . .

You wake up in a bed. 

The covers are clean and warm—something unfamiliar. You’re in a bedroom and it definitely doesn't belong to you. A lamp is on, throwing an orange, dream-like glow across the room.

Your hair feels clean. It’s been brushed through and picked clean of twigs and petals. Linen bandages are wrapped neatly around your arm and head. Your clothes are different, too. You’re wearing a sweater, now. It’s so soft it’s like you’re wearing a cloud. You didn’t know clothes could feel so comfortable. Your heart skips a beat as you reach into the pocket of your pants, only to find it empty. _Oh no._ You stick your hands into every pocket but still—nothing. _Oh no! Where is it?_

“Are you looking for this, small one?” A deep, feminine voice asks you. You look up in surprise, before reaching out in her direction. Something is placed in your hand and you already know what it is before you can close your fingers around it. Your pulse slows as you hold the piece of cloth, rubbing your thumbs across the soft material, feeling every bump and tear. You put it in your pocket.

“It was in the pocket of your other clothes, which we are washing at the moment,” the woman says after you look back up. “Are you feeling any better?”

You don’t respond. Your jaw clenches, and you raise your hands, tentatively. Shakily, you sign out, “Can you understand this?” You’re fully prepared to start making wild gestures, because you are definitely _not_ going to speak, but the lady surprises you by responding.

“Of course I can, small one. Although, I am a bit rusty with this kind of sign language.”

You’re so surprised that all you can sign is, “That’s so cool.” The woman lets out a breathy chuckle. She shifts in her seat beside the bed, her long gown rustling as she crosses her legs.

“My name is Toriel,” she introduces herself. You can hear her sharp teeth click together as she speaks. “What is your name?”

“It’s—” Your hands stutter to a stop. Suddenly, your mind is completely blank. You _swear_ your name was on the tip of your tongue just moments ago, but now it's not coming to you. Why can't you remember your own name? “It’s...I’m not sure?” You say, hiking up your shoulders in confusion.

“Oh dear, you don’t remember?” Toriel replies worriedly. She reaches out towards you and you flinch back. _Wow_ , her hands are big—even bigger than your head. Despite the size difference, she touches your bandages as little and as gently as possible. Your face relaxes. “You must have hit your head harder than I thought, poor child,” she says. “Do you remember anything at all?”

You think really hard. You remember being on the mountain. What were you doing there, again? Oh, but before that, you were in your village—which you can't recall the name of. Your memories are jumbled and foggy but the clearest thing you can recall is waking up at the bottom of the cliff. “I fell?” You ask. Toriel nods.

“You fell into our garden. Luckily, the flowerbeds broke your fall but you were still very injured when my children found you.” Your brows furrow. You actually _do_ remember the children, too—one had threatened you with a knife. You try to remember what led to you falling...but you’re only drawing up blanks.

“I’m having trouble,” you end up signing, dejectedly.

“Do not push yourself, little one. You will probably be able to think more clearly after some rest,” Toriel replies. “You must have many questions, though, especially regarding your whereabouts and perhaps about my appearance.” You give a slight nod and Toriel continues speaking. “You are currently in the Underground, also known as the Kingdom of Monsters.” Suddenly, everything makes a lot more sense. The paws, the fur, and the sharp teeth...these people were _monsters._ Your pulse accelerates.

“Do you hate humans…?” You ask nervously.

“Goodness, no! In fact, one of my children is a human just like you.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Your hands settle on the blanket. You’re not sure why you thought she might hate humans. After all, she has only been kind to you. You decide to blame it on the exhaustion. The mattress wheezes beneath you as you slump back into it.

“You must be very tired,” Toriel hums. “We can continue the introductions sometime later. Get some rest now, okay? If there is anything you need, just let me know.” You give a slight nod. With that, Toriel stands up. To your surprise, the chair gently sways back and forth from the sudden movement. Toriel had been sitting so still in it that you had no idea it was a rocking chair until now. The light switch flips and, suddenly, the room is bathed in darkness aside from the sliver of light leaking in through the open door.

“Goodnight, little one,” Toriel whispers. You raise your hand and give her a small wave. Then, you are in total darkness—at least, that's what you thought until some spots on the ceiling begin to glow. You stare at them in wonder as you sink deeper into the bed.

You absent-mindedly reach into your pocket. Even though you don't remember how you got it or why it feels so important to you, a sense of calm washes over you as soon as you touch the piece of cloth. There is a unique design embroidered into it, but you can't really tell what it's supposed to be of. You spend the next few hours gently tracing over it, trying to guess what it may be, as you watch the glowing spots on the ceiling blink and twinkle. Eventually, you fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New fanfic let's goooooooooooo!


End file.
